Be Free
by Lady Akuma Wolf
Summary: AU from end of Southern Comfort. Sam takes Dean's words to heart, his mind throwing in its own two cents. Believing it is what will make Dean happy, Sam runs and becomes untraceable until it is almost too late. Dean calls in any help he can to find his brother, including a certain blue-eyed angel. warnings in each chapter. Being finished on AO3, sorry! same title, author, etc
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yes I know this has been done multiple times, but I still wanted to take a crack at it, since as soon as I saw the Episode for Southern Comfort, especially the ending, my first thought was, 'OMG I have to write a fanfic!'. So, here it is.

**STORY TRIGGER WARNINGS**: depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and quite possibly attempt(s). Each chapter will have warnings for what is in the chapter, if anything.

Be Free

Chapter One

Dean was outside, saying his farewells to Garth. Sam sighed shakily, eyes flickering from the closed door to his half-packed duffel. He wanted to get done with his own stuff and get the weapons packed before Dean came back in. As he headed out the door, Garth gave him a look, an apology, and a promise to keep the elder Winchester outside for as long as possible, so as to give Sam some time alone to compose himself or whatever. Absently folding a semi-clean shirt, Sam doubted there was enough time in the world to compose himself for his brother's return to the broken room… back to his useless brother.

_You should've looked for me when I was in Purgatory!_

Sam winced, forehead wrinkling in spite of himself. Dean was right, in a way. He had started to look, but their promise to each other, to move on, to not look for each other, and most of all, to not bring the other back from the dead had changed Sam's mind, at least partially. At the same time, he had thought – hoped – that Dean and Castiel had both made it into Heaven. Why would he have wanted to yank his brother out of there and back to Earth? Why force him back into this life, back to fighting, hunting, exorcising, getting hurt, having to look out for his demon-blooded little brother? No. He was better off in Heaven.

_Left me to rot in Purgatory!_

He should have made sure. Should have found a way, been positive Dean was safely in Heaven. Not Hell, not Purgatory, not trapped somewhere else. But in Heaven, sipping a beer, driving the Impala down memory lane. That he was happy, free. Free like he never could've been during his life on Earth. But no. He, Sam, the loving, messed up younger brother, had given up. In more ways than one. What kind of loving brother did that? Maybe he didn't deserve to be called that, especially now… or maybe he never had in the first place. A loving brother was always there, never backing down, never giving up.

_ Cas let me down, you let me down, the only person that hasn't let me down is Benny._

Come to think of it, he'd been letting Dean down since he'd been driving them and dad to the hospital. Everything had just snowballed from there.

_Let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits._

He didn't even need to remember Dean's growled out accusations. He had a list all of his own on his head.

His own death.

Dean making a deal to bring him back, and going to hell.

Demon Blood.

Ruby.

Being Soulless.

Freeing Lucifer.

The Cage.

Not looking for Dean.

The list went on and on, big points and little, shouted out, snarled hatefully, spitefully, in his brother's voice. Always a disappointment.

A failure.

A liar.

Weak.

Useless.

Worthless.

Monster.

_Everything you've ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me._

He had, in a way. He'd kept secrets, omitted things, lied. To his brother! Dean was right to distrust him, to hate him. God, all he'd ever done was lie, and then expect it to be alright when the truth came out! Time and time again, he betrayed his brother.

_I might've lied, but I never, once, betrayed you. I never once left you to die!_

_Benny's been more of a brother to me this past year than you've ever been!_

Sam's knees gave out, causing him to half sit, half fall onto the bed, eyes squeezed shut as his brother's voice continued to scream at him inside his head. Thin lines of blood trickled down his arm from where his nails were digging into his arm in an attempt to ground himself.

"No! No," he whispered. "I can fix this… I can fix this."

_Those aren't mistakes, Sam, those are choices!_

Sam's eyes flickered from his half packed bag of clothing, to his backpack, to his weapons. There was one last way to fix this, one last choice. And Sam made the choice. No more being a burden. No more lies, anger, and failure.

Just freedom.

OoOoO

Garth waved half heartedly to Dean as he pulled out of the small motel parking lot, worry still creasing his forehead as he left the Winchester brothers. He hoped he was doing the right thing, leaving them alone with each other. Dean was now free of the coin's influence, but the coin had only brought out feelings and thoughts which were already there, just below the surface. Sam had said he was fine, but the gangly hunter didn't really believe him. All he could do now was hope the younger brother would manage alright. And if not… he flexed his sore hand experimentally. He would just have to punch Dean again.

OoOoO

Dean sighed heavily as he slowly turned back to the motel room door, hand resting on the knob. Hopefully his brother was ready to go before the destruction of the room was noticed by a staff member. They didn't have the money to pay for it, and explaining to the police was nowhere near the top of his to-do list.

The bathroom door was closed and the sink running at full force when he finally went inside, locking the door behind him. He scowled at Sam's bed, where a good portion of his brother's clothes and weapons were scattered haphazardly. "C'mon, Sam! Let's get rolling! Places to go, people to see, monsters to kill!"

Ignoring the lack of response, Dean started grabbing his few shirts, a pair of pants and his weapons, shoving them with no ceremony into his bag. He could sort it out later. Right now he just wanted to get out of here, and away from the memories this room held; the broken furniture, shattered glass, and blood on the floor from where he'd thrown his brother. He was not looking forward to being stuck in the car with Sam by any means after what had happened. Rage still rolled through his veins from the emotions the coin had conjured, but it was slowly being tempered by guilt and shame.

The silence stretched into minutes as Dean zipped up his bag and Sam still had yet to emerge from the bathroom. And the water was still running. Frowning, Dean stormed over to the closed door and pounded on the faux wood. "Enough primping, Sam! Stop wasting time!"

Once again, silence beyond that of the water greeted him. Dean's frown graduated into a scowl as he tried the handle; finding it unlocked he yanked the door open wide. "Sam, what the hell are you…" his snarl trailed off into silence as he realized the bathroom was completely empty, not even a toothbrush or shaving razor remained.

Movement behind the door made him whip around, gun yanked from his waistband without a second thought. The curtains over the bathtub danced in the breeze as it puffed its way into the bathroom, bringing smells from the diner across the street.

"What the hell…" Dean looked out but nothing was disturbed outside, and the window hadn't been forced or knocked off its tracks. Scowl still in place, he turned around to search the room again.

Sharp eyes swept carefully over the room, he finally noticed Sam's backpack was no longer open on the table next to the closed laptop but was missing completely – though the laptop was still sitting there. Also missing from the mess on his brother's bed were some of Sam's more ambiguous clothing, the demon knife, two guns and another, smaller silver knife.

"Son of a bitch. Sam I don't have time for this!" he shouted, yanking his phone from his pocket and punching the speed dial to Sam's phone. Ringing from his end was answered by a buzzing on the table next to his brother's laptop.

Phone still in his hand, Dean slowly walked over. Sam's phone jittered across the tabletop next to the pocketknife Dean had given him for his 13th birthday, set on top of a piece of paper. Snapping his phone shut and pocketing it, Dean hesitantly pulled the folded paper out from under the knife and opened it.

Two lone words glared accusingly up at him in Sam's handwriting. It took several attempts to read and reread before their meaning sank in.

_**Be Free.**_

"Sammy!"

Thank you to Doctor's-Imzadi for the beta! hopefully she doesn't kill me :) 

Please, please review with likes, dislikes, etc :) love to know what readers think.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here is chappie two! Thanks to Doctor's-Imzadi for the beta!

**Trigger Warning: **mentions of self harm towards the end. Please don't read if it might trigger you.

Be Free

Chapter Two

Previously in _**Be Free**__…._

"_Son of a bitch. Sam I don't have time for this!" he shouted, yanking his phone from his pocket and punching the speed dial to Sam's phone. Ringing from his end was answered by a buzzing on the table next to his brother's laptop._

_Phone still in his hand, Dean slowly walked over. Sam's phone jittered across the tabletop next to the pocketknife Dean had given him for his 13__th__ birthday, set on top of a piece of paper. Snapping his phone shut and pocketing it, Dean hesitantly pulled the folded paper out from under the knife and opened it._

_Two lone words glared accusingly up at him in Sam's handwriting. It took several attempts to read and reread before their meaning sank in._

_**Be Free.**_

"_Sammy!"_

OoOoO

Garth didn't make it ten miles out of the town before his phone buzzed across the empty passenger seat, its screen alight with Dean's name.

"Dean! Miss me already?"

"Sam's gone!" the voice on the other line with deep and grating with rage. "He left his phone, took some of his stuff and left while I was outside saying so long to your ass."

Garth paused before replying. Honestly he wasn't too surprised that Sam had left, but he figured the younger Winchester would've at least said goodbye to his brother, not vanished into thin air. "Are you sure he went voluntarily?"

Dean paced the hotel room, avoiding the broken furniture. "No sign of a struggle or forced entry or sulfur, and like I said, some of his stuff is missing. I doubt a kidnapper would be kind enough to wait while Sam packed up some stuff to take with."

Garth pulled over into an abandoned strip club's parking lot, absently thinking that if the joint had still been open, Dean would've happily spent several hours in the place. "Do you want me to turn around and come back?"

He could almost see the other hunter throwing up his hands as he replied, "Well no shit, that's why I called you. Pain in the ass little brother thinks he can just go run off and avoid his issues, and now I gotta find him and drag his ass back here, _again_. I'm so gonna beat his ass when I find him!"

"Why."

"Because I'm sick of his bullshit, Garth! Always causing problems or running away from them, never facing and dealing with them! He –"

"No, no," interrupted Garth. "Why are you going to go look for him? This is what you wanted, isn't it? Now you can go find that Benny friend of yours and not have to deal with Sam's… issues."

It seemed he'd managed to make Dean momentarily speechless. Finally, on the other end of the line, the hunter growled, "Just get back here so we can find him." Without waiting for an answer, he hung up.

"Well then," Garth muttered, staring at his phone for a moment before tossing it back over onto the chair and pulling out of the parking lot, heading back for the motel and one very pissed off hunter. "Let's go find us a Sammy."

OoOoO

When he pulled up next to the Impala, Garth jumped out and went to check outside the windows to the brother's room, hoping to maybe find something Dean had missed.

"I already checked, Garth. Twice. There's nothing." A voice behind him commented angrily.

"Did you try calling him?" Garth asked as he stood up.

Dean scowled at him. "First thing I did, I'm not as stupid as I look. No, he left it behind, along with his laptop. And all of his other ones are still in the glove compartment."

Stalking back to the room with Garth trailing behind him, Dean raked his fingers through his hair. "I just… why the hell did he leave?! Running never solves anything… how is that being free?"

Garth gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Now you've lost me. What do you mean, being free?"

Dean dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and roughly handed it to the other hunter. "He left me this. And yes, it's his handwriting. He also left the pocket knife I gave him when we were just kids."

Carefully, Garth read and reread the two words on the paper. Slowly, he looked back up at Dean, staring up at him. "Again I will ask you, Dean, isn't this what you wanted? You said as much earlier."

"That wasn't me!" Dean snarled, his face red with anger. "That was the coin, and you know it!"

Garth held up his hands, trying to calm his friend down. "The coin only speaks the truth, remember? It was you, deep down. Maybe you didn't realize it, but it was. You're tired of being held back, of taking care of Sam, of dealing with him. Let him go, Dean. Deep down, that's what you want. And he gave it to you. I'll at least track him down and make sure he's ok. But you… you go live your life, find Benny, hunt, don't hunt, whatever. You're free, so you can –"

Dean shoved him into a wall, forearm against his throat, effectively ending what he'd been saying. "That is my little brother you're talking about!" he growled. "He can't handle being on his own! He'll end up dead, or worse, because I'm not there to keep his ass out of trouble. It's my _job_." He stepped back.

Massaging his throat, Garth watched as Dean went back to pacing. After a few tense minutes to be sure he wasn't going to be attacked again, Garth said slowly, "He's an adult, Dean. As you said, his choices got him into trouble. Let him get himself out of trouble. You said you were tired of it; here's your out."

Dean spun on his heel, causing Garth to flinch against the wall, but a repeat of the attack didn't come. Instead, Dean's eyes almost glowed with fury as the stared down the shaggy hunter. Next thing he knew, his face was dripping with water and Dean was recorking vial of holy water. "Seriously, Dean?!"

"Yeah, well, can you blame me? You're not exactly sounding like the Garth I know, telling me to abandon my brother." Dean spat.

Garth shrugged. "You wanted to get away from Sam. Sam's gone. Just trying to get you to choose. Be happy and free, or be with your brother, and feel tied down to him." He watched the battle in his friend's eyes, and gave the enraged hunter a small smile. "The choice is up to you."

With those words, Dean sank onto the nearest bed, fight draining out of him as if his throat had been cut. "I don't know what to choose, Garth," he whispered. "His my brother, I love him, but… his _choices_. How can I trust him?"

"Maybe you can't."

Dean buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply. "I don't know what to do," he repeated.

Garth walked over cautiously and placed a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon. Let's move across town, find a room, and you can sleep on it. Watch for car thefts, check for card charges, figure out what his plans are, that sort of thing. We can start in the morning. He can't get too far before then."

With another deep sigh, Dean wordlessly stood up, grabbed his bag, and left.

OoOoO

Sam walked to the edge of town before stopping at a small Pump and Fill gas and diesel station, sliding his fake credit card in the ATM and pulling out as much as he dared before visiting the men's room and tucking all but his ID into the garbage bin.

Back in the store he stocked up on water, PowerAde and a few packs of food. The clerk didn't even look up at him and appeared half stoned as he bopped his head to the music blaring in his ears. Good. If – and it was a very big if – Dean came looking for him, he wouldn't remember him.

Across the street a few trees provided shade at a rest stop. Deciding to wait out some of the heat for a few hours before moving on, he tucked himself on the far side of two that had grown twisted around each other, giving him more than enough room to hide behind. After it cooled down – and Dean would hopefully be too drunk to look for him – he could cross back through town and head north. Why he thought heading that direction was a good idea he didn't know. But it was a plan, and he decided to go for it. He could always change it. And hitchhiking wouldn't leave a trail like a stolen car would.

Hidden behind the trees, Sam finally allowed the pain he had been holding at bay to roar painfully through his chest, down his legs and arms, into his head. With a sob he wrapped his arms around himself, fingers clutching at his arm, digging into the cut he'd made there yesterday morning, the other hand going up to the amulet which hung on a long cord under his shirt. He had saved it from the waste can where his brother had tossed it when, once again, he'd let his big brother down. He almost hadn't. But now… it was all he had left.

His hand twitched, wanting to reach for a blade, to try and bleed out the pain in his chest, but a small part of him remembered where he was, and couldn't risk getting caught.

_Later,_ he promised himself. He could bleed away the pain later.

A/N: Thoughts? Please R/R!


	3. Chapter 3

Dean, seated across the small table from him, was scowling at the laptop, typing furiously. Garth watched him silently for a moment. The older Winchester had been at it for going on five hours now, and so far had come up with nothing. The crease between his eyes had gotten deeper and deeper as time wore on and search after search came up empty. No cars had been reported as stolen in this town or any nearby, so he had moved on to searching Sam's aliases.

"Dean," Garth began hesitantly, "what if Sam dumped all his IDs, or had one you don't know about?"

Dean glared at him about Sam's computer before returning to his search. "I will find him." He growled out after a moment. "Whether he wants me to or not."

Garth shook his head. He didn't understand Dean – or Sam for that matter. He could see the rift between the hunter brothers, though he didn't completely understand the reasons why, and knew if he asked each of them the story would be different.

Dean wanted his freedom from his younger brother for reasons that probably had a large part to do with the reasons they were no longer in sync with each other, and now that he had it, he rejected it. Rejected it to the point he didn't just decide to wait for Sam to come back, or call, but was actively looking for him. Garth wasn't sure if he really cared his about what happened to his brother at this point, or if he just didn't trust him. Sadly, it was probably both.

A ding rather than a beep from the computer broke Garth's train of thought. Dean was grinning. "Got a hit. ATM at a Pump and Fill on the south side of town."

Garth got to his feet. "Well let's go!"

OoOoO

Four hours earlier…

Sam watched semis pulling in and out of the Pump and Fill from a picnic bench across the street. He still hadn't decided where he wanted to head, though he supposed it didn't really matter, as long as it was away from here. Away from Dean.

"Let me to rot in Purgatory!"

He winced at the voice. He ground his teeth together angrily, clenching his hand around a bruise forming on his bicep, an echo from the earlier fight with Dean. He couldn't afford to do anything else, not now. He needed to leave, and soon. A red Freightliner pulled up at the diesel pump island, parking next to a white Mac and black Kenworth. The former two were driven by what he thought of as the typical trucker: middle-aged men in need of a shower and their clothes the same way. The Freightliner, however, was driven by a woman.

Shoving himself off his seat before he could change his mind, Sam shouldered his backpack and jogged across the street. The woman trucker was already out of her vehicle and fueling it up. Colorful tattoos decorated her arms, and her hair glowed like a copper penny. "Hey hon, mind grabbing me a couple Five Hour Energy shots while you're in there?"

"Ok. Any snacks?" A blonde head appeared around the driver seat from the cab of the semi, her long hair in a braid which fell over her shoulder. "Boo, watch it!" she scolded, grabbing a black cat who had decided to peer out the mostly open window. She gently tossed the cat into the depths of the cab and rolled up the windows before heading inside.

She was also inked; the cat, and the marks on the blond woman's arms brought Sam up short. Her tattoos were a mixture of several different Witch Paths, and there had been a Pentacle hanging from the cat's collar. Now that he looked closer, he could see a few on the redhead as well.

"Great, just great," Sam muttered, dropping his backpack onto the bench on the edge of the island. He plopped next to his bag with a sigh, burying his face in his hands. Just his luck. He had never heard of witches being truckers, but then again, what better way for them to do what most witches did best and not get caught?

"Hey, are you ok?"

Sam looked up; it was the blond witch. He gulped. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." He gave her what he hoped was a believable smile.

She cocked her head at him, and Sam found himself wishing he had a weapon more handy than the small of his back. "You do realize I know you're lying, right?"

Sam fidgeted, making it seem innocent as he shifted so his hand was on the butt of his gun. He eyed her carefully, noting her empty pockets and single necklace, though her woven bracelets with hanging charms of metals, wood and what looked possibly like bone could be an issue. "What makes you say I'm lying?"

She put her hands in her pockets. "Because I can feel how much pain you're in, how lost and betrayed you feel. You're about as far away from ok as a person can get."

"Have you been spying on me?" Sam demanded.

"No." she shook her head. "I can sense it."

Sense it? Sam frowned. A witch werewolf? He was pretty sure the gun he was slowly inching for was loaded with silver, but…

Why couldn't he move?

Someone tutted behind him. "My wife is trying to be nice to you, and you think it's a good idea to shoot her?" The redhead. She stepped around from behind him, eyes glinting.

"Nice?!" said Sam incredulously. "You're… you're witches, or weres, or both! What do you want with me?"

"To help." The blond said softly. "We know you're a hunter, and I have a good idea who you are. You're hurting, and bad –"

"Like hell you want to help," growled Sam. "Pagan symbols, a familiar, powers? If you know I'm hunter, you know I know better when dealing with witches."

The redhead laughed; the blond smiled. "Witches, really? Did you take a good look at our ink, Sam?"

Still unable to move thanks to one of them – he suspected the redhead – his eyes flitted back to their arms. It was then, mixed in with the pentacles, runes, triple moons, and other symbols, there was an anti-possession symbol that mirrored his own on both of them. There was Enochian symbols for veiling and invisibility among others. Both of them were wearing silver.

"Tell me, Sam," the blond continued. "When you were having visions a couple of years ago, did that make you a witch? Given, it was because of demon blood, but still. Have you never run into psychics, or empaths? Or people with telepathy or telekinesis? Were they all bad?"

Sam opened his mouth to spit out a denial, but then a kind face framed by dark hair and mischievous eyes appeared in his head. Pamela, Bobby's friend. Dead now, thanks to him and his brother, and blinded before that. Given, that had been Castiel, not them… but fault could still be traced back to them.

And then there was the police officer who had become a witch, James, and his familiar Portia in St. Louis. He had turned to magic to help people, and for the most part, it had.  
So, instead of the denial he had been about to utter, Sam instead sighed. "So you're empaths and telepaths, telekinetic?"

"I'm Alexandria, a telekinetic," the redhead informed him. "My wife, Sierra, is an empath. Now, are you still gonna still try and shoot us, or can we get a move on? We have a load due tomorrow morning up at two plants in Sioux Falls South Dakota. Not gonna let you ride with us if I need to worry about our safety."

He looked from one woman to the other, meeting their gazes. The voice of his father shouted at him to not trust witches, so was Dean. But his gut decided it was worth the risk, and the risk felt minimal.

Alexandria didn't release him until Sierra nodded, reading his honesty, he suspected. Then her words sank in. "Wait, did I hear right? You're going to Sioux Falls?"

OoOoO

Dean scowled at the filthy young man behind the counter. He vaguely remembered a tall man hours ago, but had no clue where he went. "Well do you think my… partner here and I could take a look at your security feed?" He whipped out the FBI badge he'd snagged from the depths of Baby before leaving the motel.

"You're… a cop?" the man slurred. "Don' look like one."

"Did the man we're looking for look like someone wanted in a national man-hunt?" Dean demanded.

The cashier shook his head. "No…"

"Then don't judge based on appearances."

OoOoO

The security footage was black and white, and grainy, but enough. Dean squinted at the screen as he watched his brother enter the store over five hours ago before exiting nearly ten minutes later and crossing the street, disappearing off the property. He slammed his fist into the table. "Damn it!"

Garth elbowed him to get him to move, pointing up at another screen; the one which faced the diesel fuel island. "Maybe he hitched a ride with a trucker." He tapped a few keys, and the feed sped up. Not even a half hour later, a tall figure that couldn't be anyone but Sam showed up on the edge of the screen again. "There!"

"Yeah I can see that," Dean muttered, watching the exchange between two nice looking women who had emerged from a truck (good looking women truckers?! Would wonders never cease). He squinted, frowning. "Their ink… I can't make any of it out. But that –" he pointed "could almost be an anti-posession tat. What are these chicks, demon hunting truckers?"

"Could be," Garth said. "Travelling all over with a reason, especially smaller towns. And think of all the weapons you could store in the trailer and truck."

"Wait, is he trying to go for his gun?"

Sam's body was slightly bent, hand slipping towards the small of his back, then he froze. Another figure showed up from behind. Tension lined the younger Winchester brother's body for several long moments before he relaxed an nodded before getting up and followed the blonde woman to the passenger side of the semi and climbed in after her, setting his bag at his feet and slamming the door shut behind him while the other women finished fueling. A moment later she climbed into the cab and started the truck, pulling out and away.

They were headed south.

Dean and Garth went back out to the station after Dean snapped photos as clearly as possible of both women, the former grabbing a state map and opening it on a table in the small food service area. "So, here's us. And they headed south." He pointed on a map. "Most semi drivers take the interstates, goes faster. The closest one is 44, which also mostly avoids Oklahoma City and that clusterfudge of traffic." He scowled down at the map. "Where are they going that would get Sam to go with them…" he voice trailed off.

"Do either of you have any contacts or friends down south, say, in Oklahoma, Arkansas or Texas?" Garth asked, folding his arms, the fringe swinging.

Dean shook his head. "Not real…" He stopped. "That son of a bitch." He jabbed his finger at the map, at the western border of Texas. "That girl he left me in Purgatory for. She lives in Kermit, Texas."

Garth looked skeptical. "Do you really think he'd go somewhere so obvious? Maybe he asked them to go that way, or they're headed somewhere else."

"It's Sam, isn't it?" Dean said it like it explained everything. "Even if they only take him part of the way, he'd still be closer. Then he can steal a car or hitch a ride further down the line." He folded the map back up in approximately the same order it had been originally. "I'm going after him. I'll be able to go faster than a semi can, and bypass the scales and such. You coming or not?"

Garth shrugged. "Why not. I'm still not convinced, by the way."

OoOoO

Sam wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he climbed up into the truck cab after Sierra, but what was there wasn't what he'd been expecting. A closed laptop was in a metal rack attached to the driver's seat. A microwave was bungee-corded to the plastic cabinet frame behind the driver's seat, and inside the frame was a mini fridge. Above those was another cabinet with wide mesh holding in hanging clothes. A glance around the rest of the back showed a folded up upper bunk, and a neatly made lower bunk. Behind the passenger seat was…

"A tv?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Sierra as she settled on the lower bunk next to the black cat he had seen earlier, and an older calico with bright green eyes with a jagged ring of gold, who scowled at him from the blonde's lap as if he didn't meet her standards of what should and should not be allowed within her small kingdom.

Sierra laughed. "Yes. And an xbox," She motioned inside the upper cabinet the tv was attached to. "When you're sitting waiting to get loaded for half a day, or waiting to find a decent load, playing games or watching tv helps Alex pass the time."

"What do you do?"

She held up a small, flat screen device. "Read. She bought me this right before we got on the road over a year ago. I don't know what I'd do without it. We can be going down the road, and as long as her wireless thingie has signal from her phone, I can shop and buy all the books I want… within reason." She laughed when she caught him eyeing the red and black pentagram on a sheer cloth hanging on the back wall. "I can take it down if it's making you uncomfortable. It's not part of the wardings."

Sam shook his head. "No, its ok. Just… curious. What do you guys do if you're ever inspected?"

"Dunno, never been inspected, not beyond log books, anyway." Sierra scratched the calico's ears, getting the cat to finally stop staring at Sam. "We like to avoid the southern border, where stuff like that and worse are far more common."

Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know what she meant by worse or not. "Worse?"

The laughter faded from her pale eyes. "It's the south. To lesbian truck drivers who are witches? We'd be lucky to just be raped and murdered if we ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Almost got attacked at a San Antonio truck stop." She held up her hand. "Don't apologize. We got out of there, and avoid going back. Don't like the heat anyways. One time we were waiting to get loaded, and they wouldn't let us drop the trailer OR run the truck so we could have AC! Poor cats almost overheated."

The black cat shook her head and got down off the bed and jumped in the window, sprawling out on a thin blanket there placed, Sam guessed, for just such a reason.

The driver's door opened, and Alexandria climbed up. "We all ready to go?" She motioned to his bag. "There's room in the fridge if you want your drinks kept cold. We're not going to poison them."

As she revved up the engine, Sam handed Sierra two of the three drinks, keeping the red one. Watching as they pulled out, he frowned as the redhead eased the truck and trailer out away from the fuel island. "I thought you were headed for Sioux Falls?"

"We are. Got to pick up our load first. I've been there before. They'll have us loaded and headed north within the hour." She glanced over at him. "Why, want to get out? Now's your chance." She slowed down.

Sam shook his head. He'd wait. He wasn't sure if Jody Mills would help him hide from his brother, but it was worth a shot. Anything was, until he figured out what he plan was.

OoOoO

Alexandria, after backing up to a loading down and getting the paperwork all settled climbed in the back for a short nap. Sierra took her seat, bringing with her a deck of cards and cribbage. "Know how to play?" she asked as the truck and trailer rocked as they were starting to get loaded.

He remembered, barely. Pool and poker were much more common in his life. He was scowling at his hand, trying to figure out when would be the better bet since it was Sierra's crib and she was almost forty points ahead of him – 5, 5, 6, 7, King, King – when the calico cat jumped into his lap, curled up, and scowled at him, daring him to make her move.

"I can move her, if you want." Sierra offered, though she looked like she was trying to not laugh. "Molly is very choosy. If she likes you, then good luck getting her to leave you alone. We've been through a lot, her and I. Helped me through some very bad nights."

Sam discarded the two kings, and was rewarded with another five being cut. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Due to your power?"

She shook her head as she played a nine, to be followed by Sam's six and collection of points. "Not really. More what most would call teen angst. I was figuring out who I was, my orientation… living in northern Wisconsin in a Christian household and with Christian friends. My parents were fairly open minded, but I was reading and hearing about other kids my age coming out and getting kicked out. I was so scared, and that fear got turned inwards for over eight years."

"Was that fear justified?" Sam asked as he counted his points.

"Not really. I didn't come out until college, and by then, I had made friends who didn't dump me because I didn't match up to what their religion said was ok and not ok. It hurt, to lose them for something I couldn't control or change. But the ones who mattered stayed, even through the rough patches. Even called the cops on me once, they were so worried." She laughed humorlessly. "My mom was too upset over my dad's death to really notice what was going on, so she just called me a drama queen and went back upstairs. Sent me into a three-day panic attack, that welfare check."

He'd narrowed her leave down to twelve points, but she was over the skunk line, and he was still behind it. He could hear the similarities in her story. But he had chosen to use his powers, no matter they were something he couldn't cast off, just as she couldn't cast off her orientation. "Does your mom know?"

"About the lesbian part, or magic part? Lesbian, yes. Magic, goodness no. She wouldn't believe me, and I don't want to drag her into it." She glanced outside. "Green light, we're good to go."

They were able to finish their game while Alexandria locked and sealed the doors. He lost, but didn't get skunked. It was hard to focus on the last hand of cards. Sierra noticed his head dropping and half-mast eyes. "The top bunk is all yours. Go rest. And strap yourself in. That way if Alex has to hit the brakes you don't go flying into Molly's secret hideout." She motioned to the shelf above the windshield against the sloped upper front of the cab. "She might change her mind about liking you."

He wanted to protest, he did. But it had been too long since he'd well and truly rested, not with the tension between him and Dean. So he nodded as Sierra unlatched the upper bunk, completely with spare pillow and soft blankets.

He settled his pack by his feet and tucked his shoes underneath. He noticed the sky darkening as they set off, Alexandria and Sierra turning a Star Trek show on quietly on the laptop, and Molly the calico cat curled up against his side with a deep sigh, stretching her white front paws onto his chest.

The nightmares he was expecting never came. Instead he dreamed of chasing Molly through a two story old house, only to have Boo jump on him from the kitchen counter. Later, he would look back and find it weird he was the same size as them. Then… then it didn't matter. He was accepted, and was having fun, something he hadn't had in a long time.

OoOoO

Travel time to Kermit was thirteen hours; Dean and Garth, who had decided to ride along with the elder Winchester, made it in ten and a half. They parked at the only truck stop to wait and watch for the semi driven by the woman from the security video.

And waited. And waited.

After six hours of waiting, and watching, Garth cleared his throat. "Maybe they went elsewhere –"

"Shut it. He came this way, ok? Maybe he had to steal a car and so wouldn't have to stop here. Let's just go track down the girl."

"O…kay…" Garth said slowly. "What do we know about her, besides your brother likes her and you hate her? Something useful to the hunt?"

Dean slammed his head into the headrest. "Sam said something about a dog, too. Must work at an animal clinic. Can't be too many of those in a town this small, right?"

Turned out there were three. First two they visited, no one working there was named Amelia. At the third place, no one was at the front desk. "Be with you in a moment!" A female voice called from the back.

A minute later a dark haired woman in a white lab coat trotted up front. "Sorry, receptionist and tech both out with the flu. What can I help you gentlemen with?"

Dean held up a photo of Sam. "Have you seen this man around recently?"

She want pale. "No, can't say that I have –"

"You're lying."

She frowned at him, straightening. "No, I'm not. You asked if I have seen him around, and I haven't."

Dean scowled. "Look lady I know you know Sam. He came in here with a dog he hit months ago, asked you to patch it up –" A bark from behind the counter interrupted him. "Who asked you?" he demanded.

"That is the dog in question. Why are you asking about Sam? Has something happened to him?"

"Why would you ask that?" Garth asked before Dean could speak.

Amelia gave the dog a reassuring pat on the head before she spoke. "He was…. Troubled. I could see that. He had scars on his arms. He had nightmares, horrible ones. And was blaming himself for things well beyond his control. One night…" she stopped, and swallowed before continuing, her voice wavering slightly. "One night he got drunk, really drunk. And he told me if it hadn't been for hitting Riot, and bringing him here… he was headed somewhere quiet, with a loaded gun on the seat beside him. He said he was going to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else they was he had his brother, his family and his friends."

"Did he say what had happened to his brother?" asked Garth quietly.

She shook her head. "Just that he was gone, and it was his fault. At first I thought he meant he was dead. But then I wasn't so sure. And then one day he up and vanished, and I never heard from him since. I hope his brother reached out to him and they were able to patch things up and move on. He deserves some happiness."

"I'm sure he had more than enough here, enough he didn't need his precious brother!" Dean spat before he could contain himself.

Amelia scowled at him, then her face smoothed over, and her eyes went cold. "You."

"What?" Demanded Dean, shrugging his shoulders.

She stepped around the counter, still staring at Dean until she was right in front of him. Then she slapped him.

"What the hell, lady?" shouted Dean.

"You fight with your brother, you leave, he searches and searches for you, is upset to the point of hurting himself, to suicide, and all you can say is 'what'?!"

Garth stepped between the two of them hurriedly before either could make another move. "Whoa, whoa. Hang on. They did make up, at least, somewhat. They had a fight, and Sam left. We were a little ways north of here and thought maybe he'd come to you as someone he trusted."

"Yeah, well, he didn't. Even if he did, I wouldn't tell you."

Garth turned his gaze to Dean. "If he didn't come here, at least not yet, where does that leave us?"

"He is either still on the road, hasn't gotten here yet, or wasn't coming here at all." Dean sighed, sinking into a stiff waiting room chair. The dog trotted over and sniffed him warily. "Son of a bitch. Where the hell did he go…"


	4. Chapter 4

A loud hiss of air from the brakes woke Sam up a few hours later. Rolling over carefully to avoid both cats who had draped themselves on him, he peered up to the front of the cab. "Where are we?"

Sierra climbed in the back. "Sioux City. Headlight went out. Shouldn't take too long to fix." She told him as she lifted the lower bunk up, digging out a sweatshirt. "So if you want to get out and use the bathroom, stretch your legs, that sort of thing, now's the time to do it. It's a Pilot Travel Center. They're pretty clean. Just gotta hope and lechers are asleep in their trucks."

Sam was very sure he didn't want to know more about that last statement. But to be safe, he tucked most of his weapons away while Sierra dug something out of her purse.

Alexandria was already outside, lifting the gigantic hood of the truck up and perched on the tire well, muttering to herself about breakdowns always happening at the most inconvenient locations.

Sam eased off of the bunk and grabbed shoes, slipping them on once he hit the floor. Sierra waited patiently while he stretched before nodding that he was ready.

The fueling island and surrounding area was surprisingly busy for being almost midnight, Sam thought as they walked towards the building.

"Hey baby, how much for an hour?" someone leered behind them. "I want you next!" he laughed.

Sierra ignored him, slipping her hands into the front of her hoodie. Sam grit his teeth together but kept pace with her, mentally naming the weapons he had on him: gun at the small of his back, knife on his leg and in his belt buckle…

"Hey bitch I'm talking to you!"

The man grabbed Sierra's arm and jerked her around to face him. Her foot swiftly connected with his balls, causing him to double over and release her. As one, Sam drew his gun as she whipped out and extended a two foot black metal baton.

"Back off," Sam ordered, his voice shaking. "She's not for sale."

"You want a whore, go downtown, Eddie," an older man dressed in faded jeans and plaid shirt had come out of the diner. "You've been told to leave off the women truckers or the cops will pay you a visit."

Eddie sneered. "All women are wh-" he stopped when he heard the click of Sam's gun being cocked; the younger Winchester lowered his aim to the man's groin. With one last snarl at all of them, and a leer at Sierra, he spun on his heel and stalked off.

"You alright there, Sierra? Where's Red?" The older man asked.

Sierra pointed to their truck. "Light went out. She's fixing it. I need to go warn her about Eddie, though. Thanks for the backup, Harold."

Harold waved a dismissive hand. "I wish they'd just arrest him already, but his brother in law is the sheriff, so I doubt much will ever happen. Maybe I should've let your tall friend shoot him."

Now that Sam had a good look at the man, he knew him. "Harry?" he asked. "Harry VanHaverbek?"

The man frowned. "Yeah, what's it to… hell's bells. Sam Winchester? Damn boy I haven't seen you since the Yuuki'Ona hunt… God, what was it, ten years ago now? Heard about your father, sorry to hear about it."

Sam shrugged as he tucked his gun away. "Yeah well, it's bound to happen to most of us in this life, one way or another, isn't it?"

"It's why I retired." Harold told them. "If something local kicks up its heels, I try to deal with it, or let other hunters know about it so they can take it out." He cocked his head at the young man. "How'd you get mixed up with Red and Sierra?"

"Needed a ride," Sam said shortly.

Harold nodded, eyes piercing. "I see. Well. You two go take care of your business inside. I'll keep Red company until you get back out there."

He headed off without another word.

Sierra was frowning. "Do we need to be worried about him telling your brother where you are?"

"I don't know," Sam said with a sigh. "I don't know."

OoOoO

Dean emerged from the bathroom shower of the hotel down the road from the animal hospital. Amelia had reluctantly agreed to Garth's request to come over and help them brainstorm Sam's location. She was seated at the small round table with a notepad and pen, frowning, with the dog curled up at her feet; across from her, Garth was tapping out on Sam's laptop.

"Anything?"

Garth shook his head. "No hits on his cards or IDs beyond the purchase and ATM withdrawl up in Kearney. He probably dumped the cards after that, if we'd checked the bins we might've found them."

Dean tossed the towel onto the bed. "And what good would that have done us, huh?" he scowled. "We know he got onto a truck with two chicks, headed south. So where the hell else would he have tried to go besides here?"

"You don't really have any way of knowing they were loaded when they headed south."

Both men turned to look at Amelia. "You think they only went south to get loaded? Then went in another direction?" Garth asked.

She nodded. "Yes. Did you get a company name off the truck? Call them and ask where its next load is going."

Garth smacked himself on the forehead. "Duh, that's brilliant!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Dean muttered. "We weren't able to make a copy of the video, anyway."

Garth was hurriedly typing away on his keyboard. "That's ok, I think I remember the business name. Something along the lines of Black Cat Transport."

"Apt for a bunch of witches," muttered Dean. "Don't suppose the number is 666?"

"Just because they're women doing a man's job and helping your brother doesn't make the witches, asshole." Amelia spat.

"No, no!" Garth interjected before Dean could retort. "He means literally. They were all inked up with Pentagrams and stuff."

Amelia looked from him to Dean, clearly not buying it.

"Ah hah! Got it!" Garth dug out his cell and punched the number in.

"Hello, Black Cat Transport. How may I help you?" a friendly woman's voice asked.

"Hi. Umm… strange question. Did you have a red Freightliner in or near Kearney, Missouri today?"

"Yes we did. Is there an issue?"

Garth scratched his head, scrambling for a lie. "Umm, well…"

OoOoO

Sam and Sierra were just leaving the checkout, having bought a few breakfast sandwiches, which the blonde insisted on paying for when her phone went off.

"Ugh, seriously?" She growled at her pocket, handing Sam her bag. "Alex always has a talent for this. Calls and wants me to pick something up for her, but doesn't call until AFTER I've checked… out." She frowned.

"Not her?" Sam guessed. "Who on Earth is calling you this late besides her?"

"It's our public business line. It gets called at all hours."

Putting on a fake smile that made Sam chuckle, she answered it. "Hello, Black Cat Transport. How may I help you?"

The smile quickly slid off her face, though her voice remained painfully cheerful. "Yes we did. Is there an issue?"

She motioned him over, leaning the phone away from her ear so he could listen in.

"Umm, well…" An embarrassed chuckle. "They were making a repair on their truck, and I had asked to borrow a few tools from them. They left before I could return them. I'm looking for my next load now, and was hoping for their destination so I could meet up with them and return their tools.

Sam went dead white. He recognized Garth's voice, even distorted through phone lines. Sierra didn't even look at him, but the pinched look her face took on told him she'd felt his distress. "I'm sorry, but I can't give out destinations without authorization, or permission from the drivers themselves. I would be happy to pass on your name and number to them so they can talk to you direct-"

The line went dead.

Sam was white. Sierra patted his arm as she turned the cell off. "Even if they track the last call, they have no way of knowing it was one of us who you're with that they just spoke to. I've turned it off and will switch it out for another, to be safe. It's ok, Sam. Breathe."

He was trying as he followed Sierra back outside. Perhaps Garth was looking for him on his own, without Dean's input. Dean had probably called and ranted to the other hunter about his running off, and Garth, still trying to fill Bobby's shoes, was trying to do the responsible thing and keep track of him.

After all, why would Dean be looking for him?

OoOoO

Harold nodded to the two of them as they came up to the truck. The light apparently fixed, Alexandria was leaning against the hood chatting with Harold.

"I'm gonna go clean up then we'll hit the road," she told them, showing her grimy hands. "We'll be taking 75 and 42 to avoid the scales. Our luck that's when they'd want to inspect us, with a third passanger."

"If it's a problem –"

"No problem at all, Sam." The redhead interrupted. "Scales are a hassle anyways. And it only adds another forty or so minutes of travel and we're not due there until 8 am." She walked off without another word, Harold keeping her company.

Sam climbed back up into the sleeper, Sierra following him.

"D'you think Alex told him anything about… where and why you guys picked me up?"

She shook her head. "I doubt it. She's very good at keeping secrets."

Sam sighed, something he'd been doing a lot of lately. "I hope so."

OoOoO

"Why'd you hang up on them without getting any info?" Dean demanded when Garth snapped his phone shut.

The other hunter scowled. "They were asking for my contact information so they could give it to the drivers and they could contact me. My cover story would immediately tip off Sam that we're tracking him, and close."

"Yeah, but we could've tracked their location while you made the call, genius!"

Garth winced. He hadn't thought of that.

"What difference does it make?" Amelia asked. "You are all obviously involved with something illegal, if you require this many IDs and burn phones. I'm sure Sam knows how to vanish. But if you're this desperate to find him, who and where else would he turn to, if anyone when he needs help disappearing from the two of you?"

Both men were silent for several moments. Then Dean grabbed his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, its Dean. Yes Dean Winchester. Long time no speak, Officer Mills."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, it's Dean. Yes, Dean Winchester. Long time no speak, Officer Mills."

Something glass or ceramic was slammed down onto a wooden table. "Dean? What the hell? Would it kill you or that brother of yours to check in with me once in a while and let me know you're still alive and kicking?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Speaking of Sam, don't suppose you've heard from him or seen him recently?"

Dean could almost feel the scowl Jody was sending his way. "Why?" she demanded.

"Sammy got all offended at some something I said while under the influence and ran off to sulk. I'm just trying to find him before someone else does."

Thankfully, his back was to Garth and Amelia, and Dean missed the scrawny hunter stopping the vet from getting up and slapping him.

"You know, I thought you could hold your alcohol better than that." Jody's tone made it clear she didn't believe his story.

"It… wasn't that." Said Dean slowly.

"Then what the hell was it, Dean?" Jody demanded.

Silence.

"You know, Dean, I'm this close to hanging up on you and good luck finding your brother," she warned.

Dean huffed and started pacing. "Jody… you know what we do, what we're involved in. I'm sure you can use your imagination and take a pretty good guess."

Jody paused. "Dean, is there a reason you can't talk? Are you in danger?"

Having finally turned around and seen the look on Amelia's face – rage, distrust and unease – he snorted. "In danger of being neutered, maybe. We found Sam's ex-girlfriend the vet down in Texas. We were hoping he'd go to her, but he hasn't. So you're our next best guess, thus the reason for this phone call."

"Don't tempt me," Amelia threatened. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll even use a local." Riot barked his agreement. Garth grinned despite the glare Dean was giving him.

Jody chuckled. "Sounds like my kind of girl."

"Jody!"

"Right. Back to the current disaster. So, what exactly did this argument entail? I know you boys have butted heads more times than I can count. This must've been a doozy."

"I…" he almost couldn't get the words out. "I wasn't… very nice, Jody. I pretty much said I didn't want him with me anymore, that I didn't feel he could be trusted."

"Well why didn't you just tell him it wasn't true and it was whatever made you say those things talking not you?"

When Dean didn't say anything, Jody cursed. "Dean, what _exactly_ was the influence? A curse, hex bag, demon?"

"Think… think Honest Abe Lincoln meets Harry Potter."

Amelia frowned, now completely confused, turned to Garth for an explanation; he merely shrugged helplessly. If she wasn't in their world, he saw no reason to pull her into it.

"What the hell are you… Honest Abe? A Truth Curse?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Silence stretched out in Dean's ear. "Jody?" he asked, "you still there?"

When Jody finally answered, her voice was hard with anger. "Dean, if I was there, big bad ass hunter or not, I would be very tempted to take you over my knee."

"It's not liked I ASKED for it, Jody!" Dean shouted. "I didn't ask to be forced to spill the truth. I didn't ask Sam to run off like an emo girl!"

"I know that!" shouted Jody. "That's not what I'm talking about! I'm talking about letting things between the two of you get as bad as they were, if all it took was a few pointed words from you to push Sam over the edge again! Men! I swear, it will not kill you to open up a little and be honest with each other before things go to hell!"

"Sorry, I don't do chick flick moments."

"Even when it might've kept this from happening?" Amelia said shortly.

Dean turned to face Amelia. "What difference does it make? He left you, left me, just like he always does. You can't count on him when it matters."

_Slap_!

Dean blinked. Biting back the reaction to attack when struck – dang she was stronger than she looked! – and wiped away a line of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Did she just slap you?" Jody demanded. "Tell her thank you."

Garth stepped between the other hunter and Amelia. "Let's all just breathe for a moment. We're trying to work together, to find _Sam_, not tear each other apart. Put Jody on speaker."

Frowning, Dean angrily smashed the speakerphone button. "You're on speaker, Jody."

"Hello, boys and girls. Can we stop the sniping and get back to the problem at hand?"

"If you want my opinion, we should just let him go," Dean muttered. "He wants to be alone, let him be alone."

Amelia shook her head. "Sam doesn't do good alone." She held up her hand when Dean opened his mouth alone. "Look, I'm not sure who, or even what you are. Bounty hunters, special forces, private sector, whatever. All Sam would tell me was you hunt bad guys and try and save people. But sometimes, you need to be saved from yourself. That includes Sam, and it also includes you, Dean."

Silence, finally broken by Jody's comment of, "Damn, she's good."

Dean frowned down and the petite woman. "Wait, why the hell do I need saving?"

"You have a darkness in you, I can see it in your eyes. You've seen too much, done too much, been through too much, and it haunts you. It creeps up on you when you're not looking, so you try and drown it in beer and liquor. My ex husband Don… he had the same look about him after he returned from Afghanistan. He still does, last I saw him. It's not something you can easily shake off."

"Excuse me, but whatever he did and went through over there was nothing like me. You don't understand, I've done things…" He shook his head and turned away. "Let's just say, it was literally Hell."

"And you're all alone in the world, with no one who cares about you, no one to talk to or turn to. You poor thing." said Amelia scathingly. "Oh wait, you do have people who care! Your brother! And from the sounds of it Officer Jody and him" – she jerked her thumb at Garth – "You have people who love you, and are willing to help, if you would just let them the hell in! But no, you push and push them away, hide things away until they spill out at the wrong time for whatever reason, and when things get too hard you pull up stakes and leave."

"Sam left too, I'm not the only one running away from my problems!"

"Sam accepted what you said as the truth." said Amelia. "He thought it was what would make you happy! He's always trying to make others happy! I have a feeling if he thought you'd be happier with him dead, he'd do it, because you matter so much to him!"

Dean made a face in disbelief. "Sam might be emo, but he's not suicidal."

"Are you so sure?" she frowned at him. "Remember what I told you earlier?"

"Wait, wait, back up a moment," Jody interrupted. "IS Sam in danger from himself?"

Amelia filled Jody in on what she had told Dean and Garth, from when he showed up at her clinic, a bleeding dog in his arms, to his scars, to the night he got drunk enough to tell her where he'd been heading when he hit Riot.

Jody sighed heavily over the phone. "Son of a bitch. I need more coffee…"

"Isn't it rather late for coffee?"

"I have the early shift." Coffee being poured crackled over the cheap phone's speaker. "Dean I have a question for you."

"O..k..?"

"If what you said to Sam was true, that you don't want him around anymore, why are you looking for him?"

Dean rubbed his face and sighed. "Because… because he's my brother. And as much as we sometimes hurt each other, that matters."

OoOoO

Jody shook her head as she finally hung up with the two hunters and by-stander/Sam's ex. Those boys… she loved them both dearly, Sam and Dean, but sometimes she wanted to knock their heads together and see if it improved anything. If Bobby was still around, he'd probably help, she thought with a smile. Hell, he'd give them more of a dressing down than she'd done.

Her smile faded as she thought about what else Dean had said. Some Truth Curse had split the boys down the middle, just as they were repairing that bridge. While she was often torn between hating she knew about the supernatural world and being grateful because she was able to be more prepared, right now she was cursing it, their father for raising them in the life, and everything supernatural for all the Hell, literal and figurative, it had put these boys through. At the same time her mothering instincts told her to both protect them and smack them to teach them a lesson.

Shaking her head and taking one last swallow of coffee, she headed in to work. Hopefully Dean would call her with news as they once more tried tracking down Sam's aliases.

OoOoO

Amelia was freshening up while Dean ran another search on Sam's laptop _for_ Sam; Garth was playing tug of war with Riot.

"What about – " Garth started to ask, when there was a knock at the door.

Motioning Amelia to stay back when she stuck her head out, Dean drew the gun from his waistband and slowly approached the door. Behind him, Garth did the same after handing the dog over to Amelia.

Peering through the peephole, Dean felt his jaw fall open. Lowering his weapon, he yanked the door open to reveal Sam.

"What the hell man?!" he demanded his tall sibling. "You run off, leave that dumb ass note, and now just stroll on back like nothing happened? Like you didn't up and vanish?"

Sam sighed, looking ashamed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I… overreacted. I'm sorry Dean. I know I've put you through so shit, it's not surprising you'd hold a grudge. The penny just brought it to the surface."

"Sam?" Amelia's shocked whisper as she edged around Garth, who flung his arm out to stop her. His weapon was still pointed at Sam. "Test him."

"What?" Amelia looked from Sam to Garth. "That's Sam, I'd know him anywhere."

At the same time, staring at her, Sam said, "Amelia, what're you doing here?"

"They came to my clinic looking for you after you two fought, hoping you had come there," she said, tears in her eyes. "We were so worried!"

Once again, she tried to go to him, but Garth held her back firmly. "Dean, test him."

Dean turned to his brother. "You know the routine, Sammy."

Sam sighed and stepped inside, over the salt line hidden under the rug as he tugged a silver blade from his pocket. Palm up, he nicked the skin so he bled.

Eyeing him carefully, Dean tossed holy water in his face, causing Sam to splutter in indignation. "Really? You couldn't just pour some on my hand, Dean?"

"Fine. Here –" he splashed borax-laced water on the non-bleeding hand. "Have some soap."

Nothing happened.

Dean gave a half chuckle, half sigh of relief. "C'mere," he tugged Sam out of the open door and into a hug.

"Will someone tell me what the _Hell_ is going on here?" Amelia demanded, now edging away from the three men. "Are you all crazy?" she looked at Sam. "Were you always like this?"

Beside her, Riot caught sight of Sam, and growled, hackles up.

Sam held up his hands in a calming manner, his forehead creased with worry. "Amelia, please, let me explain. Please."

"Better be a damn good explanation," she grumbled, eyeing them distrustfully. She reached down to pet Riot, who quieted under her hand, but still stood stiffly at her side.

Sam shut the door as Garth grabbed him in a bear hug. "Missed ya, man!"

The hissing of burning skin and a pain cry. Sam shoved Garth away as he fell to his knees, one hand clenched to the back of his neck.

"Garth, what the hell!" Dean shouted as Garth leveled his gun at the crouching Sam.

The other hunter held up the hand not holding a finger to the trigger, showing off a silver bracelet. "That's not Sam."

OoOoO

As Alex announced they were approaching Sioux Falls City Limits, Sam finally, after nearly two dozen games managed to beat Sierra at a game of cribbage on the back bunk, Molly sprawled between them, her paws stretched out to touch his knee.

"Finally! I win!" Sam chuckled, doting on the green eyed cat, who merely purred up at him.

Sierra smiled. "Well having a 24 hand and then 16 in your freaking CRIB tend to give you a good leg up. Very nice playing!"

The smile slid off her face as Alex swore. "What is it?"

"We're being pulled over. Damn it, if they inspect us… I'm just about out of hours!"

Sierra got to her feet, her smile sliding off her face. "Stay back here," she told him as she tugged the heavy gray plastic curtains out of their ties. "Hopefully we can get by on saying it's covered in dirty laundry."

Sam leaned against the wall on the passenger side and listened as the air breaks hissed and the engine turned off. Sierra's door opened.

"Hello, ladies. How are we at this nice and early morning?"

Jody Mills.

Of all the cops in the area, it had to be Jody?

"A little chilly, compared to where we were yesterday, but alright besides that." Alex said cheerfully.

"Good, good. Mind if I hop up and look at your logbook?"

Sierra seat shook as she stood up and leaned against driver's seat, back to the curtains.

"Aren't you going to stand in back? More room," Jody commented.

Sierra chuckled. "Not really. Full of dirty laundry. Gonna do laundry as soon as this load is dropped."

"Gotcha. Then I recommend the Flying J, if you're not familiar with the truck stops here. The Love's is a bit… trashy for my taste. Nice ink, by the way. Both of you."

"Thanks."

She knows, Sam thought. Garth, Dean, someone has talked to her. But why isn't she just asking about me, or outright talking to me?

"You're cutting it pretty close, aren't you? Less than two hours left."

"We're a couple miles from the drop, and then it's just a few more to the Flying J you recommended. It'll be tight but we can make it. Then a day or so to recoop."

Jody grunted. "Well, just let me go run your license, registration and insurance, and you can be on your – hey, you ok there?"

Sierra's silhouette was hunched. "Yeah," she said, her voice strained. "Sorry. Migraine…"

Sam heard Jody moving to get out when Sierra _screamed_ "DON'T!"

He saw her yank Jody back from the open door as thunder crashed from what had been a completely open sky. The trailer rocked as if heavy gusts of wind were attacking it from all sides, shaking their way up to the truck; a tire blew on the trailer.

Then black smoke dancing with electricity swamped the truck.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sam caught Sierra as she fell backwards into the sleeper, knocking them both back against the lower bunk. He could smell the reek of the demons outside, leaking in through who knew where. In the front of the cab, both women were swearing.

As suddenly as the cloud of demons appeared, they vanished.

"Everyone ok?" asked Sam shakily.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Jody demanded at the same time.

"Demons, without human meat sacks to wear." Sam told her. Then he stiffened. "Jody do you have an antipossesion tattoo?"

"No."

The demon knife was, unfortunately, closed up in the top bunk well out of reach. Nontheless, he slowly started to get to his feet, eyes never leaving Jody. Once he released Sierra she slumped against the fridge. "Sierra, you ok?" he asked, not trusting Jody - well, the demon that might be wearing her - to attack Alex, or to come in the back and attack him. "Sierra?"

No answer.

Risking a glance down, the first thing Same noticed was blood. A line of it ran down her cheek from her nose, another the corner of her mouth. She was slouched against the fridge, her skin pale white and glistening with sweat; her breathing short and uneven.

"Get her up on the bed." Alex ordered, turning in her seat to join them in the back.

His eyes darted from her to Jody. "What about her?"

"She's still her, and no one else. The wardings on the truck, inside and out, all held, Sam. There are backup alarms to let us know if they had failed." Alex informed him. "Not to mention the cats attacked the last couple demons they saw. Now, please, get Sierra up on the back, and switch places with me. She probably got overwhelmed with their energy, had a seizure and bit her tongue. But I want to make sure nothing else is wrong."

Scooping up the blonde was easy. Laying her on the lower bunk, he did a brief check of her himself before switching places with Alex, but only after grabbing the demon blade as a precaution.

"You gonna stab me, Winchester?" Jody asked.

"Since you don't have an antipossession, I want to make sure I can defend myself, and them, if I have to," He informed her seriously. "But I think holy water will do for now."

Without warning he splashed the open vial he'd hidden at his side in her face. Eyes shut and face dripping wet, Jody still managed to scowl at him. "Thanks ever so much, Winchester. Couldn't give a girl a little warning?"

Sam found himself chuckling a little. "Wanted to surprise you."

On the bunk, Alex was helping Sierra sit up. "You ok there, blonde?" Jody asked.

Sierra nodded. "I take it she's in on the whole dark side of the world?" she asked Sam.

"You could say that." Sam grimaced. He turned to Jody. "I take it that it wasn't an accident you pulled us over? Did Dean call you?"

Jody nodded. "Yeah. He had gone the opposite direction of you; he went south, to Texas." She cocked an eyebrow at him, noticing as the color drained from his face. "I'm going to guess you know where he went, and to whom."

"You could say that," Sam muttered.

"Sounded like a spitfire of a woman. Heard her slap him at least once when he was badmouthing you even as he was asking for help to find you."

That caught Sam's attention and brought his gaze up from the worn purple carpet. "She slapped him? Slapped Dean? And he let her?"

Jody smirked in amusement. "Don't think he nessecarily LET her, but he didn't react in any way other than to snap at her, to which she snapped right back. She held her own with him, don't you worry, Sam." She looked at him. "Despite his anger, Sam, he wants to find you. He loves you -"

Sam shook his head violently. "I'm not so sure, not anymore. He still feels a duty to dad, and to his memory, which includes his promise to protect me. He made it quite clear yesterday exactly how he really feels." Had it really only been yesterday?

Jody's eyes turned sad. "Sam, tell me what happened."

Sam hesitated, not wanting to relive out loud what kept replaying in his head. A hand appeared on his shoulder; Sierra. A calmness eased through her touch, whispering down into his core. Her face was hidden from view.

"Thought you were an empath?"

"Empaths can put out or take in emotions too, if they want," she mumbled, her face still hidden. "Tell her what you need to; it will help in the long run."

So, with a shaky breath, he did.

OoOoO

"What the _hell_ is going on here?!" Amelia shouted as both men pointed guns and the PsuedoSam.

PseudoSam smile coldly at her. "Sam, Sam, Sam. Always about Sam, isn't it, big brother Dean?" He turned to Dean. "Was surprised to catch up with dear Sam without his little big brother nearby. Then again, the state he was in..." He shook his head.

"What did you do to my brother?" Dean snarled.

Behind him, he heard Garth say, "Short of it... all the things that go bump in the night, vampires, weres, magic, shifters, demons and things you can't even imagine are real. _That_ is a shifter. They need a sample of DNA to change shape into someone else."

Amelia, no doubt in shock, didn't reply.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was right in front of him. The shifter would have needed Sam's DNA to shift into his form. Which meant... no.

Dean cocked his gun. "What have you done to my brother?"

The shifter smirked. "Nothing that he is still feeling, I promise you."

Dean growled. "That's not an answer. Where the hell is he? You might want to tell me before I blast you into oblivion."

PseudoSam strolled in and shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving Dean's. "Does it matter? Everyone knows when the two famous Winchester brothers are not together, it's because they're on the outs with each other." He took a step forward, and cocked his head thoughtfully, just like Sam did sometimes. "Word has it, you've replaced him with a vampire. Not either of those two humans, where is he, I wonder? Or are you on the outs with him too? Or are you bringing him dinner?" He nodded towards Amelia, who was now, albeit shakily, holding one of Garths backup guns; beside her, Riot snarled silently. "She's a fighter. Bet you both like that, don't you?"

"Listen up, you sick sonofabitch, no clue where Benny is; he went his own way, Sam and I went ours. End of story."

The shifter made a thoughtful noise. "Hmm. Yet here you are, states away from where I found your brother. Didn't seem like he was in his right mind. What did you guys fight about this time?"

Dean winced in spite of himself. Choosing to ignore the question, and the pain it brought up, he raised his gun and aimed it at the shifter's head. "Last chance to tell me where Sam is, or you die."

"But if you kill me, how will you find your brother?"

"I'll manage," Dean spat.

The shifter ignored the three guns at him at took a seat on the bed closer to the door. "How? you guys are down here, he's not. Don't even have your feathery friend to help you find him anymore, do you? He's still rotting in Purg-"

Rage finally boiling over, Dean fired his shot.

_Cas..._

OoOoO

Sam took a seat on a park bench across from where the semi sat rather lopsided on the side of the road, Alex and a man in coveralls changing the tire that had blown; Jody stood with them.

Despite feeling better after talking to Jody about what had transpired the day before, Sam still felt the darkness whispering at the edges of his mind in his brother's voice, echoing what he had said, ranging from yesterday to thr voicemail to the day he had thrown away the amulet to everything inbetween.

He reached up to touch the amulet he had saved from the trash that day, hidden on the cord beneath his shirt. A painful reminder of what he had lost, what he still loved.

He forced a smile as Sierra came up to him and took a seat on the bench next to him. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us? We don't mind at all."

Sam shook his head. "I'll manage, don't worry. I have before."

Sierra cocked a single eyebrow at him. She didn't believe him, and he didn't blame her; hard to lie about your feelings and emotions to someone who could feel them. With a sigh, she touched his arm. "Stay strong, Sam. I know its hard, most times, but try."

He shrugged, deciding to be honest with her. "Sometimes I don't see a point in fighting anymore. The people I love are either better off without me, gone or want me gone, or are dead. Why should I keep going if there is nothing and no one to keep going for?"

She studied him for a few moments before saying, "Because your story isn't over yet. From what your friend Jody said, your brother is looking for you, whether you want him to or not. Maybe you're right and he's only doing it out of duty. But maybe you're wrong. Maybe he's doing it because despite everything that has happened between the two of you, he still loves you."

Sam shook his head. "I've caused him so much pain. Even if he does still love be despite all that, he is better off without me."

Sierra sighed, turning so she was facing him. "Whether that is true or not, he's still going to look for you. Are you going to let him find you?"

"I don't know," Sam replied. He rubbed his face. "I don't know if I should, if he will keep looking, or if I should just keep running."

"What about the person you love?"

"She's better off without me, and what I carry. Being with her was a... life saving change. But then her husband turned out to be alive, and I couldn't stay, especially after I found out Dean was... back. It's why I didn't go to her when I left Dean."

Sierra was looking at him oddly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"There is someone else," she said softly, almost as if she was lost in thought.

"Well there was Jessica, but she's dead." Because of me, he added silently.

The blonde shook her head. "There is another. Your love for them is similar to when you mention Jessica and Amelia, yet different. Strong, painful and deep. If I had to give it a name, a color, it'd be blue. Almost sky blue, but warmer, and humorous, and far away, and... different."

A loud honk brought her out of whatever trance-like state she'd been in. She shook her head. "Did I go all weird empath reader trancey?" she asked with a chuckle. "Hope it wasn't too embarassing. I can't control when that happens, which isn't very often, thank the Goddess. But I do tend to touch on things people didn't know were inside of them, or they want left hidden."

Sam treated her to a real smile. "All you did was confuse the heck out of me, so don't feel bad."

Another honk. Sierra flapped her hand dismissively at the truck without looking at it. "Keep fighting, Sam. One day at a time." Suddenly she hugged him. "Call me if you ever need anything, ok? We have contacts all over the states if you ever need help. Not all of them are human, but all are people or creatures I would trust to help you."

Sam hugged her back. "Thank you, Sierra. For everything. And thank Alex too. And Molly and Boo." It felt odd saying to say thank you to two cats, but he felt they were more than just cats anyways.

"I will."

Jody, having crossed the road over to them nodded to Sierra as the empath got up to leave. "Thank you for grabbing me before I got out of the truck when the demon storm showed up and tried to rain on our parade. I'd make a horrible cop with a demon riding shotgun."

Sierra grinned. "Anytime, Sheriff. Take care of our Sam, yeah?"

Jody nodded. "Like he was my own."

She sat wordlessly next to him as the red frieghtliner pulled away with one last honk.

Jody was the first to break the silence. "I take it you don't want me to tell your brother you're here?"

Sam sighed heavily. "At least not until I've had time to clear out of here. See if you can get him to stop coming after me; I don't want to be found."

"You boys are gonna give me gray hair and send me to an early grave with all of the tension and fighting, you know that right?"

Sam winced, but tried to smile. "You can always dye your hair. As for an early grave, not if either of us have anything to say about it."

OoOoO

Surprisingly, and not, the shifter ducked at the last moment, and Dean's bullet thudded into the far wall, not his skull.

PseudoSam clucked his disaproval. "Getting slow there, brother," he said mockingly. "What happened to those hunter reflexes? Or is it because I look like him that you can't bring yourself to pull the trigger properly?"

Another bark of a gun, and this time a spray of shifter blood splattered the horrid flower coverlet. Amelia gasped but held her ground; Garth came level with Dean. "Want another?" he asked."Tell us where Sam is."

The shifter's face was now twisted in ugly rage. "Bleeding out somewhere, I suspect."

Swiftly Dean shot the shifter in the other arm. "Where did you leave him? he ground out.

The shifter blinked in mild surprise before laughing. "You clueless, oblivious humans. Never said I was the one who left him bleeding."

"You don't know where he is, do you? All you found were some bloody bandages and knew where they came from." That statement came from Amelia.

"Well, give the bitch a prize." PseudoSam suddenly straightened, as if he didn't have bleeding wounds to hold him down anymore. "Guess you're smarter than you look."

"What are you guys talking about?" Dean demanded.

Amelia came up from behind to stand on Garth's other side. "I told you Sam has self harm issues he fights, remember? This... thing needs DNA to change its appearance, right? But why become Sam? Why come here?"

The shifter chuckled. "To take out one of the Winchesters? I'd be famous, and the shifters would stop being looked down on for good." His eyes hardened. "So, dear brother, how do you want to go?" He asked, shifting his weight; knives appeared in each hand, having been released from their arm sheaths.

The shifter didn't give Dean a chance to answer. He threw one knife at Amelia; Garth twisted, grabbing her and pulling her out of harms way, but her head struck the table on the way down. The knife imbedded itself deep in his back. Dean got off three shots, only one of which found its mark before the shifter was on him, knocking him onto his back and pinning him down. Throwing the gun away, the shifter held the remaining knife to the older Winchester's throat. "Nice try, brother. I'd take my time, but I know better. It'll just give you time to figure out a way to fight back. So lucky for you, it's nice and quick. Then I'll have your DNA. I can track your brother down, and take my time with him. I'll be able to hunt him, trap him..." The shifter closed his eyes briefly. "I'll tell him I'm not really you before he dies. But not until he's oh so close to the end."

Unable to move with the blade already cutting into the first layers of skin on his throat, all Dean could do was glare up at the shifter with dark hatred. "You stay the hell away from him!"

PseudoSam smirked as he pulled out Dean's boot knife. "Nah, don't think I will. Can't pass up that much fun. I'll tell him you send your love. Goodbye, Dean."

The shifter raised the stolen knife, and brought it plunging down towards Dean's chest.

A blinding light shone from behind the shifter, who's face now wore a look of utter shock, his body frozen with the knife barely a foot from Dean's chest. Then he disolved into fleshy goo on top of Dean.

The older Winchester shoved himself backwards, grabbing the dropped knife and struggled to his feet to face the shifter's killer.

And froze. He couldn't breathe.

"Hello, Dean."


End file.
